Down below, where the roof overhung the street, Gaius could hear shouting as the house guards formed a ring that blocked all the exits. Behind him, the scrabbling of iron-shod sandals on tiles was getting closer and so he took a deep breath to calm himself and ran, hoping his speed and balance would keep him on the treacherous surface long enough to find safety. The guard captain cried out in recognition as he broke cover, but Gaius didn’t have time to look back. The nearest roof was too far away to leap onto and the only flat place on the whole complex was a bell tower with a small window.
He made the sill with a desperate jump as his legs finally lost all grip and he heaved himself up and over it, panting in great gulps of the cold morning air. The bell room was tiny, with steps leading down inside it to the main house below. At first, Gaius was tempted to run down them, but then a plan surfaced in his mind and he steadied his breathing and stretched a few muscles as he waited for the captain to reach the window.
Moments after his decision to stay, the man blocked the sunlight and his face lit up at the sight of the young man cornered in the bell house. They looked at each other for a moment and Gaius watched with interest as the thought of being killed as he climbed in crossed the other man’s face. Gaius nodded to him and stood well back to allow him entrance.
The captain grinned nastily at him, panting from the run.
‘You should have killed me while you had the chance,’ he said, drawing his sword.
‘You would have fallen off the roof and I need your clothes – especially those sandals,’ Gaius replied calmly, unsheathing his own gladius and standing relaxed, apparently unaware of his nakedness.
‘Will you tell me your name before I kill you? Just so I have something to tell my master, you know,’ the captain said, moving lightly into a fighter’s crouch.
‘Will you give me your clothes? This is too fine a morning for killing,’ Gaius countered, smiling easily.
The captain began to reply and Gaius attacked, only to have his sword batted aside. The man had been expecting such a move and was ready for it. Gaius realised quickly that he was facing a skilled opponent and focused, aware of every move in the dance. The floor was too small a space for ease and the stairwell loomed between them, threatening to send one of them tumbling.
They feinted and struck around the space, looking for weaknesses. The captain was puzzled at the young man’s skill. He had bought the position in Cinna’s guard after winning a city sword tournament and knew he was the better of most men, but time and again his attacks were driven aside with speed and precision. He wasn’t worried, though. At worst, he could simply hang on until help arrived, and as soon as the searchers realised where they fought more would be sent up the stairs to overwhelm the intruder. Some of this confidence must have shown in his face as Gaius went on the offensive at last, having got the measure of his man.
Gaius lunged through the captain’s guard and pierced his shoulder. The man took the wound with a grunt, but Gaius knocked his riposte aside and opened a gash in the leather chestplate. The captain found himself with his back to the wall of the little bell tower and then a bruising blow on his fingers sent his gladius down the stairwell, clattering and rebounding in its fall. The hand felt useless and he looked into Gaius’ eyes, expecting the cut that would finish him.
Gaius barely slowed. He turned his sword at the last second so that the flat of it slammed against the man’s temple and dropped him senseless onto the floor.
More shouts sounded below and he began to strip the captain, fingers working feverishly.
‘Come on, come on …’ he muttered to himself. Always have a plan, Renius had advised him once, but apart from stealing the man’s clothes, he hadn’t had time to think the rest of his escape through.
After an age, he was dressed. The captain was stirring and Gaius hit him again with the hilt, nodding as the twitching movements ceased. He hoped he hadn’t killed him; the man had been doing what he was paid to do and without malice. Gaius took a deep breath. Stairs or window? He paused for only a second, put his own gladius into the captain’s scabbard, now strapped to him, and strode down the stairs back into the main house.
Marius clenched his fists at the news from the breathless messenger.
‘How many days behind you are they?’ he said, as calmly as he could.
‘If they force-march, it can’t be more than three or four. I came as fast as I could, changing horses, but most of Sulla’s men had landed by the time I set off. I waited to be sure it was the main force and not just a feint.’
‘You did well. Did you see Sulla himself?’
‘I did, though it was at a distance. It seemed to be a full landing of his legion returning to Rome.’
Marius tossed a gold coin to the man, who snatched it out of the air. Marius stood up.
‘Then we must be ready to greet him. Gather the other scouts together. I will prepare messages of welcome for you to take to Sulla.’
‘General?’ the messenger asked, surprised.
‘Ask no questions. Is he not the conquering hero returned to us? Meet me here in an hour to receive the letters.’
Without another word, the man bowed and left.
The captain was found by the searchers as he stumbled naked from the bell tower, holding his head. There was no sign of the intruder, despite the exhaustive search that went on all morning. One of the soldiers remembered a man dressed like the captain who had gone off to check down a side street, but he couldn’t remember enough detail to give a good description. At midday, the search was called off and by then the news of Sulla’s return had hit the streets of Rome. An hour later, one of the house guards noticed a small wrapped package leaning against the house gate and opened it, finding the captain’s uniform, scabbard and sandals. The captain swore as he was handed it.
Gaius was summoned into Marius’ presence that afternoon and had prepared a defence of his actions. However, the general seemed not to have heard the scandal and only motioned Gaius to sit with his centurions.
‘No doubt by now you will have heard that Sulla has landed his forces on the coast and is only three or four days from the city.’
The others nodded and only Gaius had to try to hide the shock he felt.
‘It is a year and four months to the day since Sulla left for Greece. I have had enough time to prepare a suitable homecoming.’
Some of the men chuckled in response and Marius smiled grimly.
‘This is no light undertaking. You are all men I trust and nothing I say here is to leave this room. Do not discuss this with your wives or mistresses or most trusted friends. I have no doubt that Sulla has had spies in the city watching my every move. He must be aware of our preparations and will arrive fully warned of Rome’s readiness for civil war.’
The words, said at last in the open, chilled the hearts of all who heard them.
‘I cannot reveal all my plans even now, save to say this. If Sulla reaches the city alive, and he may not, we will treat his legion as an attacking enemy, destroying them on the field. We have supplies of grain, meat and salt to last us for many months. We will seal the city against him and destroy him on the walls. Even as we speak, the flow of traffic has ceased in and out of Rome. The city stands alone.’
‘What if he leaves his legion in camp and comes to demand his rightful entry?’ asked a man Gaius didn’t know. ‘Will you risk the wrath of the Senate, declare yourself dictator?’
Marius was silent for a long time, then he raised his head and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.
‘If Sulla comes alone, then I will have him cut down. The Senate will not brand me a traitor to the state. I have their support in everything I do.’
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